


Balcony

by pamplemousses



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Illness, Depressed!Marinette, Depression, Dysthymia, Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Freeform, Other, Psychological Drama, Sad AU, Sad ML, Suicidal Thoughts, mentions of jumping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamplemousses/pseuds/pamplemousses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each day Marinette has a staring contest with her balcony, and one night she finally gives in.<br/>*Read at your own risk*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balcony

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I made a sad fic! Yay! (I'm so sorry ;-;)  
> Anyways, if topics like this trigger you, then please don't read! Otherwise, enjoy suffering.

“Balcony”

 

 

Marinette sat in the pink and white striped hammock chair on her balcony, knees pulled tight against her chest. Beams from the dying sunset slanted against her spool tea-set, casting shadows across the mini table in the middle of the space. The slight breeze in the air curled past her hanging potted-plants, and shifted the ornament lights overhead, ruffling the young girl’s makeshift awning. Faint sounds of the city that lay below the veranda floated around complex, an evening calm settling in.

Her breath hitched slightly, trying to savor the last touches of warmth on her cold cheeks.

This had always been Marinette’s favorite time of day to relax on the terrace; it gave her a chance to clear her mind and brace herself for the looming night to come. Nighttime was always the worse. Most people sleep when the sun goes down, like clockwork, but not Marinette. Her internal clock is indefinitely stuck in one place, depriving the teen a fortuity of ever getting a good nights’ rest.

She could thank her Dysthymia for that.

The dark-haired teen could be mildly gloomy one day, then too melancholy to want to move the next. This blasted illness made her life a living hell, especially when it came to school; Marinette constantly has to fight her mood to put on a bubbly façade for the better of her classmates, and lately even that has her feeling exhausted. But, then again, acting like everything is sunny might be easier if only she could sleep.

At her best, Marinette could squeeze four hours of rest in; at her worst, she’ll goes days without getting a wink of shuteye. But that’s not even the tip of the iceberg. During the nights, Marinette slipped into fits of depression, numbing her being to the core. Every little task would feel like a challenge, like moving or eating; when this happened, all the young girl could do is cry for hours on end until dehydration forces her to get out bed and find a water source. After that, Marinette would just lay motionlessly on her bedroom floor, devoid of emotion, awaiting for the sun to rise.

At least, this was what usually happened in her rainy periods. Usually.

Every once in a while, the teen would get so depressed that the world would lose it’s meaning and she’d slip into oblivion, her body working in auto-pilot mode. Marinette’s feet would lead her up the ladder of her loft and through the trapdoor to the balcony. It would always be the dead of night, when the stars appeared looked so bright and inviting. How many hours has she stood rooted in one spot behind that silver railing, staring out at the Paris scape, wishing she would just…-

Her ornament lights suddenly flared to life, showering Marinette with the harsh illumination of LEDs and successfully snapping her out of the previous stupor. Night had most definitely fallen, judging by the foreboding darkness in the area around the young girl. She yawned tiredly, azure gaze wondering up towards the sky; the sight that met the teens stare was startling. Hundreds of galaxies and stars shone back at Marinette, filling her widened blue orbs with sparks of white. The view was enough to make the unsuspecting heroine stumble up from her seat and towards the handrail, gripping it as if she could get a better view.

There were so many constellations blinking and dancing that the atmosphere seemed to be breathing, appearing as if the nebulae above was simply one heavenly cluster of life. Those millions of lumen dotting the darkness looked more like sewing lines, and she wondered what would happen if she stitched herself into the cross-seams. Oh, if only she could interweave those beams of starlife with her own, maybe then would her monochrome soul finally have a luster for all to marvel at.

It was just so beautiful and vast, something Marinette desperately wished she could be.

_no. stop thinking like that._

As if summoned, a voice in the back of her head whispered sweetly that the wish could come true, that she could finally be the one thing she always wanted to be: brilliant, like a star in the night sky. Marinette could be a light that irradiates even the deepest of dark, a glow that emits exuberance until it can no longer be classified as a glow but as a LIFE. No longer will her impenetrable sadness defer her hostage, no more will the weight of the world sag at her depthless shoulders. What’s the point of living such a colorless existence when another lies at the tip of her opaque fingers? The only object holding her back now is her balcony.

_STOP. you know better than to believe such lies._

Ignoring the voice of reason, Marinette placed one foot firmly on the iron bar beneath the top railing, and began hoisting herself up and over the banister. Once her heel touched the concrete surface holding the terrace, the teen grasped the bars securely, one thigh still hanging limply on the other side. She squirmed slightly, angling her body away from the Paris scape in order to bring her other half over the guardrail; after this action was complete, she carefully turned herself frontwards, spreading both feet apart.

_You don’t want to do this. I know you don’t._

Marinette’s hands seized up around the cold metal, palms digging into the rectangular edges. The stars winked down in encouragement, and she felt tempted to extend an arm in hopes of catching their celestial greeting.

_Think logically here. Clear your mind._

She didn’t realize she was crying until a sob rippled through her body, escaping past her pale lips. Marinette almost crumpled from the intensity of the contraction, and it wasn’t long until her sobs morphed into full on weeping.

_CALM DOWN. This isn’t you. This is the Dysthymia._

Slowly, she eased her clutch on the handrail, until her arms hung lifelessly at her sides. Marinette kept her stare trained on the sky, willing herself to believe that it held the key to a better reality. Of course it did.

_No it doesn’t_

It always has.

_It has not!_

“Goodbye Maman, Papa.” She heard herself whisper, the words like imposing icicles above her heart.

_DON’T!_

“I’m sorry”

_MARINETTE!_

Marinette pushed off the balcony, launching into the night with arms outstretched to the stars. But, instead of falling into their promising embrace, she fell to black abyss below.

Straight into hell.

…

…

“-ette. Marinette! Wake up!” Came a frantic voice through the haze of her mind. Tiny hands pushed down on her jaw, shaking the hero’s head in a dizzying manner. Sniffling, Marinette opened her eyes blearily, revealing a very distressed Tikki. The kwami stopped her actions at once, peering nervously at into the face of her miraculous holder.

“Tikki?” Marinette coughed, the young woman’s throat suddenly very sore.

“You were having a nightmare, and I couldn’t seem to wake you, and then you started to cry!” Tikki tittered, trying to compose herself. “You were mumbling things that frightened me, Marinette.”

With that, the small kwami snuggled her wet cheek, attempting to comfort the poor girl. The heroine was stunned into silence, gaze alight with fear. Was that really just a dream? Or was this another trick to allude her into thinking she didn’t just die?

Memories of who she was crashed into her like a freight train, and Marinette blinked back a fresh wave of tears. This was her life now. The previous Marinette was in another life, and that was a long time ago. She was safe, alive, and breathing. She was happy in the most brilliant way in this reality.

Marinette let out a breathy laugh, tears spilling from both closed eyelids. Her confused kwami yelped, once again speaking to her in a panicked tone. But the teen didn’t care what Tikki had to say at the moment, too caught up in her miraculous joy. She sprang up like a rocket from bed and fumbled with the trapdoor handle, slinging it open with a tremendous _smack!_   In a flailing storm of limbs, she was out on the patio of her veranda, still laughing and crying in the strangest way. Scrambling to her feet, Marinette ran up to the railing, throwing her arms open in the formation of a bird about to take flight. But this time, she didn’t plan on jumping. Oh no, her objective was to show the world how bright she felt. Because--

\--not even that dark past could dim her shine now.

 

.fin.

**Author's Note:**

> How was that for a twist, eh? If you liked this, please don't hesitate to tell me! I also bask in the bittersweet glow of constructive criticism (please tell me what areas I can improve on).  
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
